Tom Swift in the Land of Wonders
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Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift in the Land of Wonders
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"Well I'm glad I didn't frighten him off with
my gun," remarked Tom grimly. "So he agrees
with us that Jacinto is a scoundrel, does he?
I guess he might as well classify Professor
Beecher in the same way."
"I am not quite so sure of that," said Professor
Bumper slowly. "I can not believe Beecher
would play such a trick as this, though some
over-zealous friend of his might."
"Oh, of course Beecher did it!" cried Tom.
"He heard we were coming here, figured out that
we'd start ahead of him, and he wanted to side-
track us. Well, he did it all right," and Tom's
voice was bitter.
"He has only side-tracked us for a while,"
announced Professor Bumper in cheerful tones.
"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Damon.
"I mean that this Indian comes just in the nick
of time. He is well acquainted with this part
of the jungle, having lived here all his life,
and he offers to guide us to a place where we can
get mules to transport ourselves and our baggage
to Copan."
"Fine!" cried Ned. "When can we start?"
Once more the professor and the native
conversed in the strange tongue, and then Professor
Bumper announced:
"He says it will be better for us to go back
where we left our things and camp there. He
will stay with us to-night and in the morning go
on to the nearest Indian town and come back
with porters and helpers."
"I think that is good advice to follow," put in
Tom, "for we do need our goods; and if we
reached the settlement ourselves, we would have
to send back for our things, with the uncertainty
of getting them all."
So it was agreed that they would make a forced
march back through the jungle to where they
had been deserted by Jacinto. There they would
make camp for the night, and until such time as
Tolpec could return with a force of porters.
It was not easy, that backward tramp through
the jungle, especially as night had fallen. But
the new Indian guide could see like a cat, and
led the party along paths they never could have
found by themselves. The use of their pocket
electric lights was a great help, and possibly
served to ward off the attacks of jungle beasts,
for as they tramped along they could hear stealthy
sounds in the underbush on either side of the
path, as though tigers were stalking them. For
there was in the woods an animal of the leopard
family, called tiger or "tigre" by the natives,
that was exceedingly fierce and dangerous. But
watchfulness prevented any accident, and eventually
the party reached the place where they had
left their goods. Nothing had been disturbed,
and finally a fire was made, the tents set up and
a light meal, with hot tea served.
"We'll get ahead of Beecher yet," said Tom.
"You seem as anxious as Professor Bumper,"
observed Mr. Damon,
"I guess I am," admitted Tom. "I want to
see that idol of gold in the possession of our
party."
The night passed without incident, and then,
telling his new friends that he would return as
soon as possible with help, Tolpec, taking a
small supply of food with him, set out through
the jungle again.
As the green vines and creepers closed after
him, and the explorers were left alone with their
possessions piled around them, Ned remarked:
"After all, I wonder if it was wise to let him go?"
"Why not?" asked Tom.
"Well, maybe he only wanted to get us back
here, and then he'll desert, too. Maybe that's
what he's done now, making us lose two or three
days by inducing us to return, waiting for what
will never happen--his return with other
natives."
A silence followed Ned's intimation.
CHAPTER XV
IN THE COILS
"Ned, do you really think Tolpec is going to
desert us?" asked Tom.
"Well, I don't know," was the slowly given reply.
"It's a possibility, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," broke in Professor Bumper. "But
what if it is? We might as well trust him, and
if he proves true, as I believe he will, we'll be
so much better off. If he proves a traitor we'll
only have lost a few days, for if he doesn't come
back we can go on again in the way we started."
"But that's just it!" complained Tom. "We
don't want to lose any time with that Beecher
chap on our trail."
"I am not so very much concerned about him,"
remarked Professor Bumper, dryly.
"Why not?" snapped out Mr. Damon.
"Well, because I think he'll have just about
as hard work locating the hidden city, and finding
the idol of gold, as we'll have. In other words
it will be an even thing, unless he gets too far
ahead of us, or keeps us back, and I don't believe
he can do that now.
"So I thought it best to take a chance with this
Indian. He would hardly have taken the trouble
to come all the way back, and run the risks he
did, just to delay us a few days. However, we'll
soon know. Meanwhile, we'll take it easy and
wait for the return of Tolpec and his friends."
Though none of them liked to admit it, Ned's
words had caused his three friends some anxiety,
and though they busied themselves about the
camp there was an air of waiting impatiently for
something to occur. And waiting is about the
hardest work there is.
But there was nothing for it but to wait, and
it might be at least a week, Professor Bumper
said, before the Indian could return with a party
of porters and mules to move their baggage.
"Yes, Tolpec has not only to locate the
settlement," Tom admitted, "but he must persuade the
natives to come back with him. He may have
trouble in that, especially if it is known that he
has left Jacinto, who, I imagine, is a power among
the tribes here."
But there were only two things left to do--wait
and hope. The travelers did both. Four days
passed and there was no sign of Tolpec. Eager-
ly, and not a little anxiously, they watched the
jungle path along which he had disappeared.
"Oh, come on!" exclaimed Tom one morning,
when the day seemed a bit cooler than its
predecessor. "Let's go for a hunt, or something!
I'm tired of sitting around camp."
"Bless my watch hands! So am I!" cried Mr. Damon.
"Let's all go for a trip. It will do us good."
"And perhaps I can get some specimens of interest,"
added Professor Bumper, who, in addition to being
an archaeologist, was something of a naturalist.
Accordingly, having made everything snug in
camp, the party, Tom and Ned equipped with
electric rifles, and the professor with a butterfly
net and specimen boxes, set forth. Mr. Damon
said he would carry a stout club as his weapon.
The jungle, as usual, was teeming with life,
but as Ned and Tom did not wish to kill wantonly
they refrained from shooting until later in the
day. For once it was dead, game did not keep
well in that hot climate, and needed to be cooked
almost immediately.
"We'll try some shots on our back trip," said
the young inventor.
Professor Bumper found plenty of his own
particular kind of "game" which he caught in the
net, transferring the specimens to the boxes he
carried. There were beautiful butterflies, moths
and strange bugs in the securing of which the
scientist evinced great delight, though when one
beetle nipped him firmly and painfully on his
thumb his involuntary cry of pain was as real
as that of any other person.
"But I didn't let him get away," he said in
triumph when he had dropped the clawing insect
into the cyanide bottle where death came painlessly.
"It is well worth a sore thumb."
They wandered on through the jungle, taking
care not to get too far from their camp, for they
did not want to lose their way, nor did they want
to be absent too long in case Tolpec and his
native friends should return.
"Well, it's about time we shot something, I
think," remarked Ned, when they had been out
about two hours. "Let's try for some of these
wild turkeys. They ought to go well roasted
even if it isn't Thanksgiving."
"I'm with you," agreed Tom. "Let's see who
has the best luck. But tone down the charge
in your rifle and use a smaller projectile, or you'll
have nothing but a bunch of feathers to show
for your shot. The guns are loaded for deer."
The change was made, and once more the two
young men started off, a little ahead of Professor
Bumper and Mr. Damon. Tom and Ned had
not gone far, however, before they heard a strange
cry from Mr. Damon.
"Tom! Ned!" shouted the eccentric man,
"Here's a monster after me! Come quick!"
"A tiger!" ejaculated Tom, as he began once
more to change the charge in his rifle to a larger
one, running back, meanwhile, in the direction
of the sound of the voice.
There were really no tigers in Honduras, the
jaguar being called a tiger by the natives, while
the cougar is called a lion. The presence of these
animals, often dangerous to man, had been indicated
around camp, and it was possible that one had been
bold enough to attack Mr. Damon, not through hunger,
but because of being cornered.
"Come on, Ned!" cried Tom. "He's in some
sort of trouble!"
But when, a moment later, the young inventor
burst through a fringe of bushes and saw Mr.
Damon standing in a little clearing, with upraised
club, Tom could not repress a laugh.
"Kill it, Tom! Kill it!" begged the eccentric man.
"Bless my insurance policy, but it's a terrible beast!"
And so it was, at first glance. For it was a
giant iguana, one of the most repulsive-looking
of the lizards. Not unlike an alligator in shape,
with spikes on its head and tail, with a warty,
squatty ridge-encrusted body, a big pouch beneath
its chin, and long-toed claws, it was enough
to strike terror into the heart of almost any one.
Even the smaller ones look dangerous, and this
one, which was about five feet long, looked
capable of attacking a man and injuring him. As
a matter of fact the iguanas are harmless, their
shape and coloring being designed to protect them.
"Don't be afraid, Mr. Damon," called Tom, still
laughing. "It won't hurt you!"
"I'm not so positive of that. It won't let me pass."
"Just take your club and poke it out of the way,"
the young inventor advised. "It's only waiting
to be shoved."
"Then you do it, Tom. Bless my looking glass,
but I don't want to go near it! If my wife could
see me now she'd say it served me just right."
Mr. Damon was not a coward, but the giant
iguana was not pleasant to look at. Tom, with
the butt of his rifle, gave it a gentle shove,
whereupon the creature scurried off through the brush
as though glad to make its escape unscathed.
"I thought it was a new kind of alligator," said
Mr. Damon with a sigh of relief.
"Where is it?" asked Professor Bumper, coming
up at this juncture. "A new species of alligator?
Let me see it!"
"It's too horrible," said Mr. Damon. "I never
want to see one again. It was worse than a
vampire bat!"
Notwithstanding this, when he heard that it
was one of the largest sized iguanas ever seen,
the professor started through the jungle after it.
"We can't take it with us if we get it," Tom
called after his friend.
"We might take the skin," answered the
professor. "I have a standing order for such things
from one of the museums I represent. I'd like
to get it. Then they are often eaten. We can
have a change of diet. you see."
"We'd better follow him," said Tom to Ned.
"We'll have to let the turkeys go for a while.
He may get into trouble. Come on."
Off they started through the jungle, trailing
after the impetuous professor who was intent on
capturing the iguana. The giant lizard's progress
could be traced by the disturbance of the
leaves and underbrush, and the professor was
following as closely as possible.
So fast did he go that Ned, Tom and Mr.
Damon, following, lost sight of him several
times, and Tom finally called:
"Wait a minute. We'll all be lost if you keep
this up."
"I'll have him in another minute," answered
the professor. "I can almost reach him now.
Then---- Oh!"
His voice ended in a scream that seemed to
be one of terror. So sudden was the change that
Tom and Ned, who were together, ahead of Mr.
Damon, looked at one another in fear.
"What has happened?" whispered Ned, pausing.
"Don't stop to ask--come on!" shouted Tom.
At that instant again came the voice of the savant.
"Tom! Ned!" he gasped, rather than cried.
"I'm caught in the coils! Quick--quick if you
would save me!"
"In the coils!" repeated Ned. "What does he mean?
Can the giant iguana----"
Tom Swift did not stop to answer. With his
electric rifle in readiness, he leaped forward
through the jungle.
CHAPTER XVI
A MEETING IN THE JUNGLE
Before Tom and Ned reached the place
whence Professor Bumper had called, they heard
strange noises, other than the imploring voice of
their friend. It seemed as though some great
body was threshing about in the jungle, lashing
the trees, bushes and leaves about, and when
the two young men, followed by Mr. Damon,
reached the scene they saw that, in a measure,
this really accounted for what they heard.
Something like a great whip was beating about
close to two trees that grew near together. And
then, when the storm of twigs, leaves and dirt,
caused by the leaping, threshing thing ceased for
a moment, the onlookers saw something that
filled them with terror.
Between the two trees, and seemingly bound
to them by a great coiled rope, spotted and banded,
was the body of Professor Bumper. His arms
were pinioned to his sides and there was horror
and terror on his face, that looked imploringly
at the youths from above the topmost coil of
those encircling him.
"What is it?" cried Mr. Damon, as he ran
pantingly up. "What has caught him? Is it the
giant iguana?"
"It's a snake--a great boa!" gasped Tom. "It
has him in its coils. But it is wound around
the trees, too. That alone prevents it from
crushing the professor to death.
"Ned, be ready with your rifle. Put in the
heaviest charge, and watch your chance to fire!"
The great, ugly head of the boa reared itself
up from the coils which it had, with the quickness
of thought, thrown about the man between
the two trees. This species of snake is not
poisonous, and kills its prey by crushing it to
death, making it into a pulpy mass, with scarcely
a bone left unbroken, after which it swallows
its meal. The crushing power of one of these
boas, some of which reach a length of thirty
feet, with a body as large around as that of a
full-grown man, is enormous.
"I'm going to fire!" suddenly cried Tom. He
had seen his chance and he took it. There was
the faint report--the crack of the electric rifle--
and the folds of the serpent seemed to relax.
"I see a good chance now," added Ned, who
had taken the small charge from his weapon,
replacing it with a heavier one.
His rifle was also discharged in the direction
of the snake, and Tom saw that the hit was a
good one, right through the ugly head of the reptile.
"One other will be enough to make him loosen
his coils!" cried Tom, as he fired again, and such
was the killing power of the electric bullets that
the snake, though an immense one, and one that
short of decapitation could have received many
injuries without losing power, seemed to shrivel up.
Its folds relaxed, and the coils of the great
body fell in a heap at the roots of the two trees,
between which the scientist had been standing.
Professor Bumper seemed to fall backward as
the grip of the serpent relaxed, but Tom, dropping
his rifle, and calling to Ned to keep an eye
on the snake, leaped forward and caught his friend.
"Are you hurt?" asked Tom, carrying the limp
form over to a grassy place. There was no
answer, the savant's eyes were closed and he
breathed but faintly.
Ned Newton fired two more electric bullets
into the still writhing body of the boa.
"I guess he's all in," he called to Tom.
"Bless my horseradish! And so our friend
seems to be," commented Mr. Damon. "Have
you anything with which to revive him, Tom?"
"Yes. Some ammonia. See if you can find a
little water."
"I have some in my flask."
Tom mixed a dose of the spirits which he
carried with him, and this, forced between the pallid
lips of the scientist, revived him.
"What happened?" he asked faintly as he opened
his eyes. "Oh, yes, I remember," he added
slowly. "The boa----"
"Don't try to talk," urged Tom. "You're all
right. The snake is dead, or dying. Are you
much hurt?"
Professor Bumper appeared to be considering.
He moved first one limb, then another. He
seemed to have the power over all his muscles.
"I see how it happened," he said, as he sat
up, after taking a little more of the ammonia. "I
was following the iguana, and when the big lizard
came to a stop, in a little hollow place in the
ground, at the foot of those two trees, I leaned
over to slip a noose of rope about its neck. Then
I felt myself caught, as if in the hands of a giant,
and bound fast between the two trees."
"It was the big boa that whipped itself around
you, as you leaned over," explained Tom, as Ned
came up to announce that the snake was no
longer dangerous. "But when it coiled around
you it also coiled around the two trees, you,
fortunately slipping between them. Had it not
been that their trunks took off some of the pressure
of the coils you wouldn't have lasted a minute."
"Well, I was pretty badly squeezed as it was,"
remarked the professor. "I hardly had breath
enough left to call to you. I tried to fight off the
serpent, but it was of no use."
"I should say not!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my
circus ring! one might as well try to combat
an elephant! But, my dear professor, are you all
right now?"
"I think so--yes. Though I shall be lame and
stiff for a few days, I fear. I can hardly walk."
Professor Bumper was indeed unable to go
about much for a few days after his encounter
with the great serpent. He stretched out in a
hammock under trees in the camp clearing, and
with his friends waited for the possible return
of Tolpec and the porters.
Ned and Tom made one or two short hunting
trips, and on these occasions they kept a lookout
in the direction the Indian had taken when he
went away.
"For he's sure to come back that way--if he
comes at all," declared Ned; "which I am beginning
to doubt."
"Well, he may not come," agreed Tom, who
was beginning to lose some of his first hope.
"But he won't necessarily come from the same
direction he took. He may have had to go in an
entirely different way to get help. We'll hope
for the best."
A week passed. Professor Bumper was able
to be about, and Tom and Ned noticed that
there was an anxious look on his face. Was he,
too, beginning to despair?
"Well, this isn't hunting for golden idols very
fast," said Mr. Damon, the morning of the eighth
day after their desertion by the faithless Jacinto.
"What do you say, Professor Bumper; ought
we not to start off on our own account?"
"We had better if Tolpec does not return
today," was the answer.
They had eaten breakfast, had put their camp
in order, and were about to have a consultation
on what was best to do, when Tom suddenly
called to Ned, who was whistling:
"Hark!"
Through the jungle came a faint sound of singing
--not a harmonious air, but the somewhat
barbaric chant of the natives.
"It is Tolpec coming back!" cried Mr. Damon.
"Hurray! Now our troubles are over t Bless my
meal ticket! Now we can start!"
"It may be Jacinto," suggested Ned.
"Nonsense! you old cold-water pitcher!"
cried Tom. "It's Tolpec! I can see him! He's
a good scout all right!"
And then, walking at the head of a band of
Indians who were weirdly chanting while behind
them came a train of mules, was Tolpec, a cheerful
grin covering his honest, if homely, dark face.
"Me come back!" he exclaimed in gutteral
English, using about half of his foreign vocabulary.
"I see you did," answered Professor Bumper
in the man's own tongue. "Glad to see you.
Is everything all right?"
"All right," was the answer. "These Indians
will take you where you want to go, and will not
leave you as Jacinto did."
"We'll start in the morning!" exclaimed the
savant his own cheerful self again, now that
there was a prospect of going further into the
interior. "Tell the men to get something to eat,
Tolpec. There is plenty for all."
"Good!" grunted the new guide and soon the
hungry Indians, who had come far, were satisfying
their hunger.
As they ate Tolpec explained to Professor
Bumper, who repeated it to the youths and Mr.
Damon, that it had been necessary to go farther
than he had intended to get the porters and
mules. But the Indians were a friendly tribe,
of which he was a member, and could be depended on.
There was a feast and a sort of celebration in
camp that night. Tom and Ned shot two deer,
and these formed the main part of the feast and
the Indians made merry about the fire until nearly
midnight. They did not seem to mind in the
least the swarms of mosquitoes and other bugs
that flew about, attracted by the light. As for
Tom Swift and his friends, their nets protected
them.
An early start was made the following morning.
Such packages of goods and supplies as could
not well be carried by the Indians in their head
straps, were loaded on the backs of the pack-
mules. Tolpec explained that on reaching the
Indian village, where he had secured the porters,
they could get some ox-carts which would be a
convenience in traveling into the interior toward
the Copan valley.
The march onward for the next two days was
tiresome; but the Indians Tolpec had secured
were as faithful and efficient as he had described
them, and good progress was made.
There were a few accidents. One native fell
into a swiftly running stream as they were fording
it and lost a box containing some much-needed
things. But as the man's life was saved Professor
Bumper said it made up for the other loss.
Another accident did not end so auspiciously.
One of the bearers was bitten by a poisonous
snake, and though prompt measures were taken,
the poison spread so rapidly that the man died.
In due season the Indian village was reached.
where, after a day spent in holding funeral services
over the dead bearer, preparations were
made for proceeding farther.
This time some of the bearers were left behind,
and ox-carts were substituted for them, as it was
possible to carry more goods this way,
"And now we're really off for Copan!"
exclaimed Professor Bumper one morning, when
the cavalcade, led by Tolpec in the capacity of
head guide, started off. "I hope we have no
more delays."
"I hope not, either," agreed Tom. "That
Beecher may be there ahead of us."
Weary marches fell to their portion. There
were mountains to climb, streams to ford or swim,
sending the carts over on rudely made rafts.
There were storms to endure, and the eternal heat
to fight.
But finally the party emerged from the
lowlands of the coast and went up in among the
hills, where though the going was harder, the
climate was better. It was not so hot and moist.
Not wishing to attract attention in Copan
itself, Professor Bumper and his party made a
detour, and finally, after much consultation with
Tom over the ancient maps, the scientist announced
that he thought they were in the vicinity
of the buried city.
"We will begin test excavations in the
morning," he said.
The party was in camp, and preparations were
made for spending the night in the forest, when
from among the trees there floated to the ears
of our friends a queer Indian chant.
"Some one is coming," said Tom to Ned.
Almost as he spoke there filed into the clearing
where the camp had been set up, a cavalcade of white men,
followed by Indians. And at the sight of one
of the white men Tom Swift uttered a cry.
"Professor Beecher!" gasped the young inventor.
CHAPTER XVII
THE LOST MAP
The on-marching company of white men, with
their Indian attendants, came to a halt on the
edge of the clearing as they caught sight of the
tents already set up there. The barbaric chant
of the native bearers ceased abruptly, and there
was a look of surprise shown on the face of
Professor Fenimore Beecher. For Professor Beecher
it was, in the lead of the rival expedition.
"Bless my shoe laces!" exclaimed Mr. Damon.
"Is it really Beecher?" asked Ned, though he knew
as well as Tom that it was the young archaeologist.
"It certainly is!" declared Tom. "And he has
nerve to follow us so closely!"
"Maybe he thinks we have nerve to get here
ahead of him," suggested Ned, smiling grimly.
"Probably," agreed Tom, with a short laugh.
"Well, it evidently surprises him to find us here
at all, after the mean trick he played on us to
get Jacinto to lead us into the jungle and desert
us."
"That's right," assented Ned. "Well, what's
the next move?"
There seemed to be some doubt about this
on the part of both expeditions. At the sight
of Professor Beecher, Professor Bumper, who had
come out of his tent, hurriedly turned to Tom
and asked him what he thought it best to do.
"Do!" exclaimed the eccentric Mr. Damon,
not giving Tom time to reply. "Why, stand
your ground, of course! Bless my house and
lot! but we're here first! For the matter of that,
I suppose the jungle is free and we can no more
object to his coming: here than he can to our
coming. First come, first served, I suppose is the
law of the forest."
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